Honkai Impact: My VR Harem is Real — Chapter 201

Chapter 201: Unbelievable

Master Jingwei had told him that youth was the absolute best time to temper the Sword Heart; the earlier one started, the purer the foundation would be.

Sitting on the cool stone courtyard of Mount Taixu, Rovel silently pondered her words. He figured there were two main reasons why the Sword Heart could only be successfully cultivated during childhood.

First, the vast majority of children possessed a relatively pure state of mind. Untainted by the complex burdens and bitter experiences of adult life, it was far easier for them to find a singular, unwavering direction, thereby shaping a pristine Sword Heart.

Second, the very essence of the Sword Heart relied on using the Divine Sound to physically transform the human body into a perfect vessel and conduit for Honkai Energy—a process strikingly similar to the birth of a Herrscher. During childhood, the bones and meridians were still growing and malleable. Guiding that raw Honkai Energy during the body’s natural growth phase was exponentially easier than trying to forcefully alter an adult physique that had already set like hardened clay.

However, even knowing the underlying mechanics, Rovel wasn’t entirely sure if his current body could successfully cultivate it. Regardless, he had nothing else pressing to do this early in the morning, so reciting the mantra a few times certainly wouldn’t hurt.

After verifying that Rovel had completely memorized the complex chants, Jingwei didn’t immediately instruct him further. Instead, she turned away, stepping into the center of the courtyard to continue her daily morning exercises.

Rovel sat quietly to the side, silently reciting the Sword Heart Mantra in his head while his eyes tracked Jingwei’s fluid movements as she performed a set of Tai Chi.

Although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what grade or tier this specific martial art belonged to, coming from the immortal of Mount Taixu, it was undoubtedly deep.

To better comprehend the subtle mechanics of her form, Rovel activated his Clear Mirror Sword Intent. The world around him slowed, his vision sharpening to catch the exact moment her muscles tensed and released with every strike. He watched the precise way her body exerted physical force, smoothly weaving it into the invisible, surging flow of Honkai Energy.

It didn’t take long for Rovel to realize what he was witnessing. This wasn’t just a simple morning stretch; it was a devastatingly refined fist technique that flawlessly blended the explosive, point-blank impact of Inch Force with the neutralizing, redirecting flow of Dissipating Force.

Coincidentally, he was already familiar with the theoretical foundations of both.

Seemingly aware of Rovel’s intense scrutiny, Jingwei intentionally slowed her routine. She broke down the complex transitions into distinct, readable segments, silently guiding his observation.

A few minutes later, she completed the final stance of the set, slowly lowering her hands and exhaling a long, steady breath of white mist into the crisp mountain air.

“You may come and try it,” Jingwei said, her calm gaze shifting back to Rovel.

She could sense that the young boy sitting before her was exceptionally extraordinary. Just moments ago, he had displayed an astonishing memory, perfectly reciting the entire Sword Heart Mantra after hearing her speak it only once. Now, he even seemed capable of grasping the deep martial concepts she had just demonstrated.

also… the strange, focused aura he had emitted while watching her felt remarkably similar to the third level of the Sword Heart’s cultivation—Clear Mirror—yet it carried a slightly different, entirely unique resonance.

“Alright.” Rovel nodded, pushing himself up from the stone steps. He walked to the center of the courtyard and began to practice the fist technique, carefully imitating the sequence he had just memorized.

At the start, Rovel slowly lifted his arms. His movements mirrored a wild goose spreading its wings—steady, grounded, yet carrying a distinct lightness. Then, his hands shifted into a fluid, circular motion. He let his waist and hips drive his upper body, swaying like sturdy bamboo caught in a heavy wind, concealing a lethal hardness within a soft, yielding exterior.

Following the flow, he snapped a kick forward. He focused on drawing the kinetic force all the way from his planted heel, channeling it up through his spine, and snapping it out through his fingertips. The energy moved like a rushing stream merging into a vast sea, continuous and unending.

Although every transition was slightly raw and lacked the polish of decades of practice, the sheer, concentrated force contained within his strikes made even the stoic Jingwei widen her eyes in mild surprise.

By the time Rovel finished the complete set, his chest was heaving. Sweat dripped from his forehead, stinging his eyes. He panted heavily, resting his hands on his knees. This young body was still far too weak to handle such explosive physical demands.

“Have you practiced martial arts before?” Jingwei asked, her voice carrying a rare note of curiosity.

“Yes. Just for self-defense. I once learned a move or two from a friend,” Rovel replied between breaths, seeing no reason to hide his foundational knowledge.

Jingwei studied him for a long moment. “…Your mastery of force has already reached an extremely high realm. However, limited by your current physical vessel, you are completely unable to fully unleash it.”

She turned slightly, the morning breeze catching the edges of her sleeves. “If you are truly interested, once your Sword Heart breaks through to the Still Water realm, I will formally teach you this set of fist techniques.”

Having set a clear milestone for him, Jingwei didn’t wait for a reply. She simply waved her hand and began walking down the mountain path, her figure quickly blending into the morning mist.

Watching her receding silhouette, Rovel wiped the sweat from his brow. The current Jingwei really does seem a bit too cold and detached, he thought to himself. But… she hasn’t reached the point of being completely heartless yet.

On the contrary, simply because he had shown a genuine willingness to learn, she had gone out of her way to slow her forms and offer future guidance.

“Ah Fang… Xiao Bai? What are you doing out here so early?”

A soft voice called out from behind him. It seemed the newcomer wasn’t entirely sure how to address him yet, awkwardly testing out two different variations of his name in quick succession, likely debating which title struck the right balance between polite and friendly.

“Just call me Rovel. Good morning, Sister Chaoyu,” Rovel said, turning around to face Lin Chaoyu with an easy smile. “I was just watching Master Jingwei practice her fist techniques earlier. I got a bit curious, so I came over to take a closer look.”

“Oh, so that’s what you were doing…” Lin Chaoyu blinked, her gaze sweeping the empty courtyard. “Then… where did Master Jingwei go?”

“She just headed down the mountain,” Rovel explained, gesturing toward the misty stone steps.

“I see…” A brief flash of disappointment dimmed Lin Chaoyu’s eyes, her shoulders slumping for a fraction of a second. But she quickly recovered, flashing Rovel a warm, welcoming smile. “Well, I just finished making breakfast. Would you like to come inside and eat with us?”

She stepped closer, her tone shifting into a gentle, coaxing rhythm, exactly like a big sister trying to encourage a toddler. “After we finish eating, I will teach you the Sword Heart Mantra. In the future, if you want to become a great hero who subdues demons and eliminates evil, you absolutely must start by learning this mantra!”

“Mm. Sounds good,” Rovel nodded, playing along with her enthusiastic pitch.

When they arrived at the dining side hall, Su Mei was already seated at the wooden table, a bowl in her hands. Hearing their footsteps, her chewing instantly paused. A deep blush rapidly spread across her small cheeks, and she ducked her head, staring intensely at her food as if she had just been caught stealing snacks from the pantry.

“Rovel, hurry up and sit down before it gets cold,” Lin Chaoyu said, completely ignoring Su Mei’s guilty posture and ushering him toward an empty stool.

While Lin Chaoyu’s culinary skills couldn’t quite compare to Mei’s flawless cooking back in the real world, the spread on the table was still incredibly comforting.

The thick, steaming rice porridge was generously sprinkled with freshly chopped scallions, delivering a bright, fragrant kick with every spoonful. Paired with the sharp, salty tang of the pickled preserved vegetables, it was the perfect, appetite-whetting meal after a grueling morning workout.

“How does it taste?” Lin Chaoyu leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she looked between the two younger children. “If you think it’s too bland, I can quickly boil another bowl of noodles or fry something else up for you.”

She hovered over them with genuine care, constantly trying to anticipate their needs.

“There’s no need for the extra trouble, Sister Chaoyu. It’s delicious. You should sit and eat too,” Rovel said, offering her an appreciative nod.

Su Mei didn’t say a word. She merely gave a tiny, rapid nod, either agreeing with Rovel’s assessment of the food or simply seconding his request for Lin Chaoyu to finally sit down.

“Mm, alright then.” Lin Chaoyu beamed, finally taking her own seat to enjoy the warm breakfast together.

Once the bowls were cleared, Lin Chaoyu kept her promise. She guided them to the training mat and began to slowly recite the deep verses of the Sword Heart Mantra.

Beside Rovel, Su Mei’s little face was scrunched up in an expression of absolute agony. Her brows were knitted so tightly they nearly touched, clearly unable to comprehend a single esoteric word leaving Lin Chaoyu’s mouth.

Not long after the lesson began, the quiet sound of footsteps echoed near the entrance. Jingwei had returned.

Lin Chaoyu immediately scrambled to her feet, rushing over to her master’s side. “Master! You haven’t eaten breakfast yet, have you? Do you need me to go to the kitchen and prepare a fresh batch?”

“No need,” Jingwei replied, shaking her head with a subtle, dismissive motion.

“…I am currently teaching the two of them the Sword Heart Mantra,” Lin Chaoyu reported, a fond chuckle escaping her lips as she glanced back at the mat. “It seems they are exactly like I was back in the day. Completely and utterly confused.”

Jingwei’s ancient eyes shifted, landing directly on Rovel. “Hasn’t he already memorized the entire thing?”

“Eh?” Lin Chaoyu froze, her smile stalling as her brain struggled to process the words.

“This morning, I saw he had nothing to do, so I taught him the Sword Heart Mantra in advance,” Jingwei stated matter-of-factly. “He is exceptionally smart. He memorized it flawlessly after hearing it just once.”

Being directly called out, Rovel simply closed his eyes and kept his mouth shut, deciding it was best to stay out of this.

“Is… is that so?” A heavy flash of shock, followed quickly by a complex swirl of emotions, crossed Lin Chaoyu’s eyes. “It seems Rovel is also a genius. By comparison… it took me two full weeks just to memorize the verses. I really was a bit slow…”

She lowered her head, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve as she cast a complicated, envious glance in Rovel’s direction.

Jingwei didn’t seem to notice the shift in atmosphere. “You will continue reciting the mantra to the young girl. I will take him outside and begin teaching him the foundational Sword Forms.”

“…Yes, Master Jingwei.” Lin Chaoyu kept her gaze glued to the floorboards. It was impossible to tell exactly what she was thinking, but her voice lacked its usual bright energy as she nodded in agreement.

Noticing her disciple’s sudden quietness, Jingwei paused. “…When you first began cultivating Taixu Sword Qi, you were already in your teens. Because your bones and mind had already matured, it is perfectly normal for your Sword Heart progress to be a bit slow.”

“Mm…” Lin Chaoyu’s expression instantly became even more dejected, her shoulders sinking further. In her mind, Jingwei’s factual explanation sounded exactly like a harsh reprimand about her lack of innate talent.

“…Come with me,” Jingwei instructed, turning her attention back to Rovel and walking out the door.

Following behind the immortal, Rovel couldn’t help but find the entire exchange incredibly funny.

What a disaster of communication. Jingwei’s casual praise of him had inadvertently dealt a massive critical hit to Lin Chaoyu’s fragile self-esteem. Because Lin Chaoyu cared so deeply about her master’s opinion, she spiraled into dejection over the smallest perceived flaws. Then, seeing her disciple upset, Jingwei had actually tried to offer comfort—only for her blunt, factual delivery to sound like a brutal spur in Lin Chaoyu’s ears.

One was a socially detached immortal who spoke in blunt riddles, and the other was a highly insecure disciple with absolutely zero reading comprehension.

Unbelievable.